(Read Matthew 7)
I tend to easily engage with almost anyone, often striking up meaningful conversations and connecting on multiple levels. At the same time, I wrestle with a far less Christlike tendency, forming quick opinions based on someone’s appearance, what they’re wearing, their piercings, or the art on their skin. I’m ashamed of this. I know it’s shallow and judgmental, and I genuinely don’t want to be that way. Yet, despite my intentions, that cold part of my heart still shows itself more often than I’d like.
My parents undoubtedly experienced their version of culture shock, just like we do today. Sure, they didn’t see school kids texting at the bus stop, but they still made snap judgments, often for reasons that went beyond appearances. I remember my dad’s reaction when my sister brought home her serious boyfriend. It wasn’t exactly warm. (M) came from a mixed-faith family and looked like a stereotypical musician from the early ’70s. At the time, he was bouncing between jobs and pouring his energy into a nighttime side hustle as a drummer. Probably not the picture of a stable provider my dad had envisioned for his daughter.
While their relationship was often tense, I’ll never forget what (M) shared at my dad’s funeral. He said that, despite the bumps in the road, he always felt loved. He always felt like family.
Where do our judgments come from? Are they shaped by experience and reason? Are they cultural? Scriptural? Often, when I catch myself forming a superficial bias, I recognize it almost instantly, and what I do next matters. I can either let that prejudice shape my actions, or I can open my heart to what Jesus would want me to do. It’s a horrible, smelly, sticky feeling—like the residue from handling two-week-old trash. It clings to you. It has to be scraped, scrubbed, and washed clean.
But the legal expert wanted to prove that he was right, so he said to Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?”
In reply Jesus said: “A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, when he was attacked by robbers. They stripped him of his clothes, beat him and went away, leaving him half dead. A priest happened to be going down the same road, and when he saw the man, he passed by on the other side. So too, a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side.
Luke 10:29-32
The question revealed a desire to limit the scope of the commandment to “Love your neighbor,” not a sincere search for truth. By asking, “Who is my neighbor?” the lawyer was looking to draw lines, deciding who deserved his love and who did not. It reflects a common human tendency to shrink God’s commandments into manageable rules instead of embracing them as life-shaping truths. In response, Jesus told a story that flipped the question on its head.
The priest and the Levite, both respected religious figures, should have understood God’s command to love their neighbor. They may have avoided the injured man out of fear of becoming ceremonially unclean. But rather than helping, they became examples of indifference. Jesus redefines a neighbor not as someone we already relate to, but as someone we choose to become. Their response shows that religious status or knowledge of Scripture does not fulfill God’s command. Mercy and obedience are what truly matter.
“But a Samaritan, as he traveled, came where the man was; and when he saw him, he took pity on him. He went to him and bandaged his wounds, pouring on oil and wine. Then he put the man on his own donkey, brought him to an inn and took care of him. The next day he took out two denarii and gave them to the innkeeper. ‘Look after him,’ he said, ‘and when I return, I will reimburse you for any extra expense you may have.’
“Which of these three do you think was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of robbers?”
Luke 10:33-36
Real love crosses boundaries. The story sets the stage for a Samaritan, despised by Jews, to be the hero, challenging deep-rooted biases. My interpretation of Christ’s teaching here is that we often look for reasons to let differences divide us. We allow variations based solely on visual or cultural distinctions to shape our thought process and actions.
By making a Samaritan the hero, Jesus flipped the social and moral expectations. The two religious leaders failed to act, but the despised outsider responded with compassion. Compassion is inconvenient. True love often interrupts our schedule, comfort, and resources. Being a neighbor is about action. It’s not a category of people—it’s a way of being.
C.S. Lewis pointed out in Mere Christianity that Christian love is not merely a feeling but a deliberate choice to act for the good of others, regardless of personal feelings. Jesus doesn’t erase the differences between Jews and Samaritans. He chooses a Samaritan—a man from a group despised by Jews as the hero on purpose. In doing so, He acknowledged the very real ethnic and religious hostility of the time.
In this parable, Jesus is lecturing us to stop focusing on the shallowness of our differences. The John Denver song “Season Suite: Spring/Summer” aptly sums up Jesus’ teaching here. “Yet as different as we are, we’re still the same,” and “And oh, I love the life within me, I feel a part of everything I see.” Jesus taught that love transcends these divisions.
“Do not judge, or you too will be judged. For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.
“Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother’s eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye?”
Matthew 7:1-3
Jesus isn’t saying, “Never evaluate anyone’s actions.” He’s warning against a harsh, biased, or self-righteous spirit when we do. His audience included religious leaders known for their legalistic judgment, lacking grace and humility. But we shouldn’t be deceived—anyone can fall into that trap, whether spiritual or not.
In verses 3–5, Jesus talks about removing the log from your own eye before pointing out the speck in your brother’s. This clearly shows He isn’t forbidding discernment—He’s forbidding condemning judgment. Before we correct others, Jesus says it’s vital to first deal with our own faults.
Judging others invites judgment upon ourselves. The standard we use will be applied back to us. If we lead with condemnation, we should expect the same in return—from God and others. Jesus isn’t asking for silence; He’s asking for humility. He never says, “Ignore sin.” He says, “Don’t approach others as if you’re better than them.”
The other day, I needed a replacement key card for our hotel room because I left one in the room. Walking into the lobby, there were two clerks behind the desk. I approached the woman who had checked us in a few days earlier. Aside from this, the other person behind the desk had a ton of piercings, some tattoos, and a lot of hair! I figured him as a seasonal backup employee. The woman I approached for the replacement key was stuck. She was unsure how to proceed. The guy I had looked past in my critical eyes was actually the manager.
Who are you to pass judgment on the servant of another? It is before his own master that he stands or falls.
Romans 14:4
Paul addressed disputes among believers about personal convictions, especially regarding food, holy days, and conscience. He reminds the Roman church that each believer ultimately answers to God, not to one another. A bigger application can be used in our lives. We answer to God, not to our perceptions and biased, false impressions. There is an arrogance behind judging others over non-essential matters, Paul challenged. Even if someone’s faith looks different than ours, God is the one who sustains them, not our approval or correction.
While on vacation, we met a visiting friend of our daughter’s. Most of this crowd don’t talk about their faith, attend church, or pray — at least in public. The outgoing, amiable, young woman I spoke with has traveled extensively around the world. She grew up in Portugal, has lived in Paris, South America, Australia, Germany, and now, New York City. I asked her if she or her family were church going people. In nearly perfect English, she answered, “My family does go to church, but I’m not as active.” My first impression was that she was too urban to worship God. “Even though I don’t go to church now,” she continued, “I believe in a bigger Divine force.” She told me about a horrific motorcycle accident she was in while staying in Indonesia, where she had to be flown to Australia for emergency surgery. She also had multiple confrontations while traveling in Morocco that still showed some emotional scars on her. “I’ve had some low points in my life, where I’ve needed to call for help,” she finished.
I hadn’t judged her, but I had already made my mind up ahead of time that there’s no way she would be a believer. However, we had many wonderful conversations as did the Hotel clerk and me. Differences shouldn’t require judgment. If God accepts a person through Christ, we should be cautious about doing what God Himself is not doing, judging them over secondary differences.
Jesus told him, “Go and do likewise.”
Luke 10:37
These four words are Jesus’ direct, practical command following the story of the Good Samaritan. “Go and do likewise” is a call to embody mercy tangibly, with our time, resources, and compassion. Knowing what love, kindness, and mercy look like isn’t enough. Look at others with love, with open eyes, and an open heart. Jesus calls us to live it out.
“There is only one lawgiver and judge, he who is able to save and to destroy. But who are you to judge your neighbor?”
James 4:11-12
Key Application:
- Show mercy over criticism. Jesus’ teaching is a direct challenge to examine our posture toward others. In everyday life, whether at work, in family conflicts, or even online, it’s easy to default to criticism, assumption, or condemnation.
- Be careful. If you’re quick to judge others, expect that same standard to be turned on you. Swap assumptions for questions. Instead of thinking they’re just lazy or careless, ask: What might they be going through that I don’t see?
- Reflect before reacting. Are you judging from frustration or love? From pride or humility? Jesus invites us to trade judgment for mercy, because that’s precisely what He’s done for us.
“Man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.”
1 Samuel 16:7